Mission Accomplished
by CatchWolfzie
Summary: On that bridge, it looked as if two titans had leaped to battle. On one side, Rin. On the other, Shima. The blind passion and vividness of blue flames, against the stagnant apathy of black ones. Only one would come out unscathed. But no one would win. (Spoilers for chapter 96)


**So I felt that the fight in chapter 96 (I think it was 96) was a bit anticlimactic. Honestly I feel like Shima could stand a better chance against Rin, even if only due to experience. So here's my little rewrite of that bridge scene, and how I'd have liked it to go. Please review and tell me what you think!**

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The sky churned with rolling clouds and poisoned stars as streaks of blue ripped apart the heavens. The unnatural occurrence prompted the liquid that collected in those mighty clouds until its weight had to be expelled in heavy sheets. Bolts of lightning were vomited through the air, providing snapshots of the bridge and the two warriors upon it. The winds provided a colosseum of millions of screams.

To the group of shocked and frozen people just below the fray, it looked as if two titans had leaped down to war. Though, that wasn't entirely inaccurate. On the left side of the bridge was Rin. His feet were planted wide apart, his fists clenched just above his knees. Brilliant blue flames stretched and spat from his skin and the two horns that had sprouted quite suddenly from his skull. Fury contorted his features into an ugly, terrifying visage. He was a beast to behold, both demonic and yet unquestionably human.

On the right side of the bridge, standing in front of an imposing helicopter and a more imposing Yukio, was Shima. His posture was relaxed, shoulders drooping and fingers loose around his staff. Blood dripped from his parted lips, but his expression remained neutral and glassy-eyed. Thick black fire snaked around his form. Rin was scary. But there was something altogether horrific about the deadness in Shima's pupils.

Words were exchanged—of course they were—but were mindless, unintelligible. Drowned out by tension and rain and battle. Rin sprung forward, brandishing his sword with both hands. His muscles rippled as he swung. Again! Again! There was no aiming or precision. Instinct alone carried his movement. He screamed and threw his flames forward, barely able to see. He felt everything at once. He heard and smelled and tasted everything.

Blood poured between wicked fangs. He felt the slash of something sharp in his chest and across his face. Barely saw wisps of black hair flying behind him. Pain exploded behind his eyes. He swung the sword and felt it connect too. It sunk into something sinewy. Soft. Flesh! Yes! Rin swung again, jumping and smashing down the weapon, awesome power shooting out in a shockwave. He heard a scream that wasn't his own and felt triumph.

Shima was knocked back, back, back, almost falling off the bridge itself. He understood that he was burning. He watched the skin of his arms sizzle and blister, but it was robotic. He simply shrugged and dodged the next attack with a well timed roll. He shot out a hand, fingers stretched and rigid. Yamantaka followed the length of his arm and rammed into Rin. It roared and Shima took a moment to admire its flames.

They were not light and graceful, like Rin's, but acted more like sludge. They carried weight, moving like ink as they stained Rin's eyes and skin. The spawn of Satan threw back his head and screamed and Shima took that chance to rush forward with his Kiriku. He slashed twice, going first for the heart and then again for the eyes.

Shima panted. He felt light as the Kurikara sword plunged deep into his shoulder. But the scream that bubbled up from his throat never made it past his gritted teeth. He staggered away, allowing dark blood to rip from the wound.

Rin came forward again, motion hindered by blackness. He fought it, gouging a hole in the living flames that were starting to wrap around his throat. He wheezed harshly, trying desperately to clear his clogged lungs. Everything hurt, but it was made bearable by the thought of Yukio being so close.

He just had to get to him. He just had to talk to him. He just…

"YUKIO!" Rin wailed, throat red and bleeding as he turned his body and whipped the Kurikara back around. He had something to fight for and everything to lose. The sword met fabric and then skin and then air as it cut a gash into Shima's stomach. Again! Faster! Jump! Twist! Strike again!

"YUKIO YUKIO YOU IDIOT!" he kept screaming, a continuous torrent of hurt. He was shaking so hard. Everything rocked around him. He felt unsteady on his feet but couldn't stop to take a breath. Something pushed at his back, the dull ball of metal morphing into a sharp point. The tip of Shima's staff suddenly appeared in front of him, jutting out from his chest. But it didn't hurt.

This time, it didn't hurt.

Rin jerked against it, but found himself immobile.

"Don't struggle so much, okay?" Shima mumbled behind him. There was a click. Sudden and abrupt. Nothing like the screams of pain and whistle of rain and squelching of lacerated bodies. It was mechanical and familiar. Rin's head snapped up immediately. His vision was blurry, tinged with black. But the shadowy figure in front of him was still clear in his mind's eye.

Yukio stood poised, gun in hand and finger resting on the trigger. Licks of blue flame flickered behind his glasses.

"Yukio…" Rin rasped, suddenly aware of the tears dripping down his face to mix with the blood. He wasn't struggling anymore. His flames died down slightly, and where they thinned they were instantly replaced by black ones.

"Yuki—"

The gunshot swallowed everything, so much that the sound was almost more painful than the bullet tearing into his skull and burrowing in his brain.

Rin went slack even as Shima dislodged the Kiriku. He fell to the cold cobbles, staring up at a night that he couldn't see. A storm he couldn't see.

Shima watched him fall. He knew that it hadn't killed the demon boy, but the shot certainly had calmed him. He stepped carefully over his body, now using the staff as a crutch.

It was a strange sensation that came over Shima in that moment when he walked to stand near Yukio. Blood was pouring in good amounts from various wounds on his body. But he couldn't feel the pain. Numbness permeated his every pore.

He stumbled over air and acknowledged the fact that he'd be unconscious soon. But that didn't matter. Rin was lying motionless on the ground and it didn't matter. His childhood best friends were running towards the bridge screaming and cursing his name, but it didn't fucking matter.

A sick smile tugged at Shima's lips. What a night. He patted Yukio's shoulder in approval while also steering him to the helicopter.

"Nice job Mr. Okumura. Didn't think you had it in ya," he said quietly. Yukio simply nodded, head still turned to stare at Rin as they stepped into the chopper.

A cot was rolled in by more operatives and Shima gratefully collapsed into it. He turned lazily to watch Yukio be strapped into a seat. The massive aircraft was taking off, slowly gaining air.

It was a little more messy than he would have liked. But all in all, mission accomplished.


End file.
